The Edifice

16. Sweet Escape

It's transcendent.

If the sensation of passing through Bob's pentagram was like falling into nothingness, then the feel of Otis's lips on mine has me caught in the grip of infinity.

Despite our hesitant approach and the unbearable pause before contact, I feel myself now submerged in his presence. I try to reach out and find his shoulder to steady myself, but it's impossible to distinguish where his touch begins and my own body ends.

Far from my original terror of kissing a his fanged maw, it's more like stepping out into the buffeting gale of a hurricane than any form of physical contact with a person. Just an intangible force that whirls around me, draining the last of the energy from my well wearied bones.

Sapping the soul from me...

That isn't to say that it's not exhilarating.

Where the I feel the aching mortality seep from my body into the churning whirl of energy beyond, something new replaces it. A bone-deep chill shoots through my veins like shards of ice, electrifying every nerve ending in its wake.

I feel... alive.

More alive than I've ever felt before. Suddenly through the impossible barrage of sensation around my I can distinguish Otis's grip on my waist. His shirt crumpled around my balled fists as I cling to him just as much. Face to face, he can't be more than an inch taller than I am, but his presence is practically titanic.

The light that flared up at the moment of our kiss fades. I crack open one eye hesitantly, take in the shimmer of Otis's crystalline skin, the flutter of his silvery eyelashes just inches from my own.

Goodness...

He's exquisite and I don't want this to end...

I barely manage to stay on my feet when we finally part, reflexively catching myself as that expanse of feeling and energy ebbs away back into the surrounding bedroom.

Otis is less dexterous. He sways unsteadily for a long second before his legs give way, sending him careening to the floor with an improbably silent impact. He rolls to one side, panting for oxygen like a fish out of water.

"Oh shit, huh?" he gasps, clutching his chest. "Fuck, I think that dust just hit all at once."

I sink down onto the bed, staring at the tremors that wrack my hands. I wasn't expecting whatever the Hell that had been. What did it mean? Had the idea of possessing souls actually been more than just talk? I don't feel souless.

Otis groans, tugging the skin of his throat like he'd never touched it before. A laugh of delighted disbelief escapes him. "I can feel myself. Oh God, I've never been hit like this before. Are you okay?"

"Otis," I murmur urgently. "That wasn't normal, right? When we kissed, something happened."

"Uh, yeah. You agreed to sell your soul, remember-"

Before he can finish, the door slams open and closed with a deafening crash and Nim stumbles into the room. Her heels give out beneath her and she thuds to the carpet, clutching rubbing her eyes. They're bloodshot with not only intoxication, but fearful tears. "Otis. Otis, he's here. He's back. Please. Help me."

"Who-" Otis cuts off, scrambling to his feet. "Kitty. We have to go. Now."

"What? Go where?"

Otis ripples from view, flashing in and out of focus like a glitching video before he comes to a standstill at the window. He swings a leg through the pane of glass without bothering to unlatch it, passing through like water. For a second, he looks almost as frightened as Nim.